Why Snape Isn't A Physician
by Ivory Tower
Summary: It's a very good thing that Snape decided to teach. I pity all Gryffindors everywhere.


Title: Why Snape Isn't A Physician  
  
Author: Ivory Tower  
  
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all Harry Potter characters and concepts.  
  
The door bursts open and in stalks Snape, black robes billowing, his greasy, shoulder-length hair hanging in his face. He is holding a clipboard and he has a stethescope around his neck.  
  
"Well, Miss Granger, what seems to be the problem?"  
  
Hermione just stares, certain she is either crazy or something is *very* wrong.  
  
"I don't have all day, and I am not a mind reader. Now tell me what is ailing you or kindly remove yourself from my examining table," snarls the surly Potion Master.  
  
"I-um-my arm. I think I sprained it," explains Hermione. Snape gives her one of his infamous "you are mentally inferior" looks.  
  
"You are coming to me with a sprained arm? That is all?"  
  
"But it really hurts and it's swollen!" insists a flustered Hermione.  
  
"Put some ice on it. Now get out."  
  
"But sir-"  
  
"Twenty points from Gryffindor for arguing with me, Miss Granger. Shift it!"  
  
Scenario #2  
  
Ron Weasley is busy searching all the drawers for lollipops when Snape sweeps in, looking particularly angry.  
  
"Lose something, Weasley?"  
  
Ron resembles a deer caught in headlights.  
  
"Professor Snape," he croaks, "what are you doing here?"  
  
"Sit down and tell me why you are wasting my time, Weasley." snarls Snape, picking up a quill.  
  
"Well, I was on my way to Charms, when-"  
  
"The symptom Weasley. Not your life story."  
  
"Uh-right. My neck feels a bit funny, and-"  
  
"Wonderful. I am a liscensed chiropracter. Now be very still or I am likely to break your neck, Weasley."  
  
Ron turns very pale as Snape's spidery hands close around his throat.  
  
"I'm okay now, sir." Ron manages to say in a hoarse voice.  
  
"Silence. Now, this will only hurt a little-"  
  
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!"  
  
Everyone in the waiting room looks up in absolute horror.  
  
"Help! Help! He's killing me!"  
  
Silence.  
  
Abruptly, the door swings open and out staggers Ron wearing a neckbrace, his eyes large as saucers.  
  
Scenario #3  
  
Harry is lost in a copy of "Quidditch Through the Ages" when...  
  
"Ah, Mr. Potter. And what is bothering our young celebrity today?"  
  
Harry swallows his gum and does a double take.  
  
"Well, I think I messed up my shoulder during Quidditch practice, and-"  
  
"Oh, here, allow me. Does this hurt?"  
  
"...No..."  
  
"This?"  
  
"A little."  
  
"Mmm hmm. And this?"  
  
"Uh, Professor, why are you bending my arm back like that?"  
  
"Silence. I'm a physician. Ah-ha, Potter, you have dislocated your shoulder. Allow me to pop it back into place."  
  
"Is that really nec-"  
  
PAIN!!!  
  
"Pity," says Snape as Harry's unconscious body is magiked away on a stretcher. "It seems Mr. Potter will be unable to participate in Tuesday's match against Slytherin. How unfortunate."  
  
Scenario #4  
  
Draco proceeds to clutch his stomach and groan as the door opens.  
  
"Professor, " he moans, "I think I've been poisoned."  
  
Snape sighs. "Draco, you're a bit of a hypochondriac and it is steadily getting out of hand. Last week you swore you had gout, and what was it the week before that? Oh yes, your *ovaries* were swollen."  
  
"But, Professor, I'm really in pain on this side. It started after I ate the beef stew. My insides are turning to mush. I can feel it!"  
  
After much observation and a second opinion...  
  
"Well, Draco, you were right."  
  
Draco blanches.  
  
"I'm dying!"  
  
"No, but there is something wrong. You have appendicitis, young man. I shall have to remove your appendix immediately."  
  
Draco shifts uncomfortably.   
  
"Does this mean you'll have to cut me open?"  
  
"No. I shall simply remove the appendix through your nose. Of course I will have to operate! Thanks to you and Potter, the game will have to be rescheduled. Don't look so worried, Draco. I have successfully diassected hundreds of specimens over the years. Draco? Poppy, go ahead and put him on the operating table. He's out cold."  
  
Scenario #5  
  
Neville trembles when Snape walks in.  
  
"S-s-s-s-sir, I-I have these warts on my-where are you going?"  
  
In the waiting room, the patients are roused from their apprehension by a loud argument.  
  
"You take care of him, Poppy! I refuse to touch him or his filthy warts!"  
  
"Severus, it is your duty as a doctor to help those who-"  
  
"It it were anyone but Longbottom, I wouldn't care. That boy is a jinx! I do not want to end up with his nasty warts!"  
  
"You should be ashamed, Severus!"  
  
"Well, I am not." The door swings open and Snape's unfriendly greasy head peers out. "Next!"  
  
~FIN~ 


End file.
